Identity Crisis
by ASKessler
Summary: What happens when you lose five days of your life?


Title: Identity Crisis

Author: A.S. Kessler

Rating: T

Disclaimer: Don't own it. Not making any money on it. Just for fun.

The twelfth precinct was alive with activity for it being so late in the evening. The young, blond haired man walked in and looked around. He'd been told by some people on the street that he might get some help here. He was tired, filthy, hungry and as lost as ever he could be. For some strange reason, his vision was blurry. His jeans were tattered and filthy. They had been soaked and dried around his body. The entire lower left leg of his pants was caked in mud. He had dirt dried in his hair and across his cheek, which covered the bruises there. His white shirt was now a brownish-gray and hung open. The t-shirt he wore underneath was in worse condition, sporting a huge rip down the front. Neither concealed the bruises around both of his hands and wrists and both forearms. His shoes were missing and his socks were both caked with dried mud.

Nobody seemed to pay him any attention as he looked around. Finally, a young, attractive, dark-haired woman started past, then stopped and turned toward him. She hurried over, snagged him by the wrist and started to tug. "Where've you been?" she asked. "Mac's been looking for you; we all have. What've you been dumpster diving without me? Mac's gonna have your ass on a platter. C'mon." She tugged him further into the building, past wire mesh walls, steel steps leading who knew where, and toward a glass walled office. "Mac," the young brunette called out to the man standing just inside. "Look what I found?"

The man in the office turned and looked the blond disaster of a man over. "Two days off is two days, not five," the man's tone was definitely not friendly. Whatever Danny had been doing over the last few days was anyone's guess, but it hadn't been reporting into work. Mac had taken a call from the Commissioner that a man resembling one of his detectives saved the life of the daughter of one of the UN Ambassadors whose car had been damaged on the Verrazano Narrows Bridge. The only thing the man had left behind was his badge. It had been Danny's badge. Mac hadn't heard nor seen from Danny for three days since that call came through and his badge had been turned in. He'd been officially missing for thirty-five hours.

The blond wondered about his choice of buildings for seeking help. The man standing in front of him wore nice slacks and a nice shirt. His sleeves were rolled up to the elbows and his hazel eyes seemed to spark with a cross between concern and irritation. "Where in the hell have you been?" the man asked in a tone that implied that he wanted a definite response. And the young man didn't have one.

"I… I…" the blond stammered. "I… I dunno," he finally admitted.

"I'm not in the mood for this, Danny," the man snapped. "We've got three cases going on right now. I have to call missing persons and tell them you've decided to show up. It'd be nice if you'd clean yourself up and get to the lab. Now." The man turned and headed up the couple stairs into the office. "And work on a better answer," he shot over his shoulder.

The brunette had started to walk away, shaking her head. She stopped when Danny didn't move. "Uh, Danny?" she said. "Mac said now; I think he means now."

If he could possibly be more confused, he was. He looked at the brunette and blinked a few times. "I… what… who…?" He sighed, frustrated.

The young woman reached over again and snagged him by the wrist once more. She tugged him down the corridor. "Are you _trying _to get your ass fired?" she asked. "Locker room. Shower. Change. Lab. C'mon Danny." She nudged and prodded him along until they reached the locker room. She propped the door open with one foot and shoved him inside with her hand to the small of his back. "God, you're filthy," she remarked. "What've you been doing? Swimming in the East River?"

"No, I…" he didn't have an answer. He didn't know what he'd been doing. He didn't know where he was or where he belonged. But the man and the young woman both seemed to know him. For a few minutes, he thought that everything would be okay. _He could fake it… sure. _As the brunette started out of the locker room, the man turned to her. "Hey… what'd you just call me?" he asked. _Try to sound casual… _

She turned slowly, a frown crossing her brow. "Danny?"

"Danny…" he repeated slowly, as if trying it out. Nothing clicked, but that didn't matter. "And you are…?"

"You're so not funny, Messer," Aiden told him, and she headed out of the locker room shaking her head.

_Well, so much for that idea. She'd called the other man Mac. Remember that._

All alone, he turned and studied the room. Several banks of lockers stood in a row with benches between them. Past the lockers were the facilities and past that were the sinks and showers. Towels were stacked on a metal wire shelf. He stepped into the shower area and disrobed slowly. His body ached everywhere and moving to take his filthy clothing off only renewed aches that he'd been trying to forget. Once nude, he stepped over to get a towel and saw his own reflection in the mirror. The man staring back at him was a complete stranger. Blond, disheveled, unshaven and filthy, deep blue eyes looked into deep blue eyes and saw no recognition inside. He had a name that didn't mean anything and saw people who seemed to know him that he didn't know.

He walked into one of the shower stalls and closed the curtain. He stared at the controls for several minutes before he figured out how to actually make the water come on. A bit more trial and error got the temperature right and he sank to the floor of the shower, then curled up on his side and let the spray beat down over his body.

Mac Taylor sat back down at his desk and looked over the case files they still had pending. Something kept tugging at his thoughts and he found himself looking repeatedly at the door of his office. Once, as he looked up, Stella Bonasera was heading up the steps.

As Stella walked into Mac's office, she could tell that something was up. "I know that look," she remarked. "What's up?"

"Danny's back," he replied. However his tone was that of a man who wasn't quite sure of his own statement.

Stella picked up on the tone and her eyebrow went up. "And... that's a good thing?"

Mac frowned. "He came in filthy. Aiden had him by the arm. Glasses are missing. He seemed..." he searched for the right word. "...off."

A frown crossed Stella's features. "Have you spoken with him?"

"Just to ask where he'd been," Mac told her. "He said he didn't know."

"He didn't know?" the frown across her brow increased. "Mac, how could he not know where he's been? It sounds like he's hiding something."

"I get that impression a lot from him."

Stella folded her slender arms across the front of her body and looked down at Mac behind his desk. "So? Are you going to do something about it? Or are you going to sit here and wonder?"

"I told him to shower, change and get to the lab," Mac told her.

Stella shook her head at him, her curls swaying against the frame of her face. "Well, do you mind if I ask him then?" she asked. "Since I'm the one that's been covering a good share of his workload."

Mac handed her another case folder. "I don't mind," he said. "As long as you take this with you."

Stella smiled and reached over to pluck the folder from his hand. "I know _just_ who to give this to," she smiled and headed out of Mac's office. She headed down to the locker room with the new case file and a big smile on her face.

As she entered the locker room, she saw Aiden changing into a fresh outfit. "Aiden?" Stella asked. "Where's Danny?"

Aiden slid one leg into her slacks then pointed toward the men's bathroom. "He's in the shower," she replied. Her nose wrinkled up. "And not before he needed it either," she added. "He's puttin' the mess in Messer. I swear it looks like he took a swim in the East River."

Stella started toward the men's side of the bathroom. While the locker room was unisex, the bathrooms were divided. It gave for some small measure of privacy, but right then, Stella didn't particularly care. If she saw something she'd never seen before, she'd simply shoot it. She could hear the water running in one shower stall. The curtain was drawn. She stepped up to the closed curtain and called out sweetly, "Daaannnnnyy."

She waited a minute for some reaction. At best, she'd expected a 'yeah', or 'wait a minute'; at worst she expected him to shout out something about her being in the men's section while he was naked in the shower. Neither occurred. In fact, it was eerily silent in the shower except for the sound of the running water.

"Danny?" Stella asked again. Still no response. "Danny, either say something or I'm coming in there." She waited. Silence. She tried once more. "Danny, last chance… I'm coming in."

She reached out slowly and pulled the curtain aside just enough to see the back wall. There was nobody in there. It wasn't until she pulled the curtain back halfway and looked down when she saw Danny curled up on the floor of the shower.

Stella whisked the curtain totally to the side and stepped into the small space. The water started to soak her slacks and she shrugged out of her suit jacket. She reached down and felt Danny's neck for a pulse, then breathed a sigh of relief when she felt that familiar thump-thump under her fingers. "Danny?" She brushed his wet hair away from his face. His eyes were closed. That's when she noticed the bruises on his body. "Aiden!" she yelled.

A voice from the locker room called out "Yeah?"

"Aiden, go get Mac. And bring a kit! Danny's down!"

Aiden had to poke her head into the men's shower to see for herself. "Holy…" she nodded and headed out of the locker room at a dead run.

Stella got to her knees in the shower and sat back on her calves. She gently turned Danny so that he was laying on his back with his head out of the spray and rested his head on her thighs. When she turned him, he groaned then stirred again.

He'd been so tired that he'd fallen asleep in the shower. The past few days, he'd slept wherever he could find. The nights had been cool and now the hot water in the shower lulled him right out. Still, any hopes of knowing who he was and where he was when he woke went down the drain with the water. He stared up into the face of yet another pretty dark-haired woman. This one was different than the first and she was touching his head lightly.

"Hey there," the woman smiled as his blue eyes fluttered open. "Welcome back. You scared me."

"Fell asleep," he mumbled. "Tired."

Stella continued to stroke his hair lightly. Something was wrong. Danny had multiple bruises along his ribs. The underside of both of his arms were totally bruised from his armpits to his wrists and the soles of his feet and both ankles were both bruised, as were the insides of both knees and thighs. Aiden had said he had come in filthy and judging by the dirt that coated the floor of the shower, he still was.

Mac hustled into the locker room just then, carrying one kit. Aiden was right behind him with the other. "Stella?" he called. Aiden moved around her boss and headed into the men's shower.

"In here Mac," Stella called.

Danny tried to keep the names straight but he was so out of it, he wasn't sure he'd be able to tell who was who. It hadn't even occurred to him that he was in the shower, stark naked, and there were now three people in there with him and two of them were female. He simply didn't care.

Mac shrugged out of his jacket, tie and shirt quickly, then slipped his shoes and socks off before he stepped into the small shower area with Stella. "Danny, can you sit up?" he asked. He put one hand on the man's shoulder and went to help him. Stella eased him up from the other side.

Danny scooted to a sitting position and finally ended up with his back to the one shower wall. Mac went to turn the water off but Danny raised his hand to stop him. "Please, mister…" he begged. "I'm finally warm."

Mac gave Danny a long look and dropped his hand away from the shower control slowly. He then glanced at Stella. 'Mister?', he mouthed to the woman.

Stella frowned. She'd caught it also. She glanced over at where Aiden was standing about a foot away, both kits at her feet and her arms across her chest. Her expression was practically screaming concern. "Aiden," Stella asked quietly. "You found him?"

Aiden nodded. "Yeah. He was wandering around by the front desk. I knew Mac had been looking for him so I snagged him before he disappeared again."

"Wandering," Mac mused. He looked the body of his semi-coherent CSI over, remembering the condition his clothing had been in. Danny seemed very passive, almost drugged. Mac took in the bruises on his arms and legs, then glanced at Stella. "Would you two mind giving me a few minutes alone with Danny?" he asked. "Don't go far; we're going to need to process him."

Stella nodded and stood up slowly. "I'll go dry off and change," she told Mac. She stepped from the small stall and closed the curtain, giving the men some privacy, albeit a bit late.

Mac stood slowly and snagged a bar of soap from the dish in the shower, then squatted down in front of Danny once more. "Let's get you cleaned up and see what's bruise and what's dirt." He reached for Danny's arm and ran the soap over it methodically. Danny just watched him, his eyes listless.

As the dirt washed away, Danny didn't look that bad physically. Mac speculated that his bruises were two to three days old. He also noticed a small lump on the back of his head, behind his ear and the man had winced when he touched it. The two men were silent for several minutes. Finally, as Mac set the soap aside, he looked into Danny's distant gaze with his own hazel eyes. "What's your name?" Mac asked him quietly.

Danny's focus turned to Mac. The man was a blur to him but his voice was calm and gentle. "Danny," he replied quietly.

'_Maybe… maybe not,' Mac thought. Aloud, he asked, "Danny what?"_

"Danny………." he stalled, trying to remember what the young woman had called him. '_What was it she'd called him?_'

Mac nudged him gently. "You don't know, do you?" he asked.

Very slowly, Danny's head shook back and forth. His gaze dropped down and his resolve sank. He didn't like admitting that he didn't know, but he was tired of trying to guess. Maybe they had answers; he sure didn't.

"Do you know my name?" Mac said quietly.

Danny's gaze went up to Mac's, as if he were studying his features. He squinted in an effort to find the focus that never seemed to appear. Finally he shook his head no again.

"How about the two women who were here a few minutes ago?"

Danny shook his head no.

"It's okay, Danny," he told his young CSI. "It's okay. Just a couple more questions and I'll let you rest. Do you know _where_ you are?"

Again, a negative head shake.

"What's the date, Danny?"

"I dunno," Danny's voice was barely a whisper. "I'm sorry."

Mac sighed and gave Danny's shoulder a light pat. Whatever had happened to Daniel Messer over the past few days was a mystery, and it seemed like he wasn't going to be able to fill in the missing days. At least not yet. "Danny, my name is Mac Taylor. I'm a detective with the New York Police Department. We're going to help you out. Okay?" He felt odd introducing himself to a man who'd worked for him for the past five years, but the man on the floor in front of him wasn't his detective at that moment. He was a very lost, confused young man.

Danny nodded. It was the first thing that anyone had said to him that gave him some small measure of comfort and hope.

Mac pulled him to his feet and made sure he rinsed off under the spray. "You stay here; I'm going to get you something to put on." He stepped out of the shower and headed to his locker, retrieving his discarded clothes on the way. Aiden and Stella both looked up when he came into the locker room.

"Well?" Stella asked. "What's up?"

Mac rubbed his eyes; it had been a long five days and showed no signs of letting up. He opened his locker and pulled out dry suit pants for himself. He then motioned to Aiden. "Open Danny's locker and see if he's got clothes in there." He then turned to Stella. "Looks like amnesia," he told them. "We won't know for sure to what extent until he's examined by a doctor, but he doesn't know his name, location, the date nor any of us.

Aiden scrounged in Danny's locker and managed to come up with a pair of sweat pants and a navy blue CSI t-shirt.

"He's got distinctive marks on his arms and legs," Stella pointed out. "Bruising from something, but they don't exactly look like restraints."

Mac nodded and changed into dry clothes quickly. "I know," he replied. "And he's got a knot on the back of his head behind the ear which might explain the memory loss. He's got bruises everywhere under," he gestured to the inside of his arm, "but not over…" he shook his head. "Let's get his clothes down to trace and see if we can't find out where he's been." He reached out for the clothes Aiden had recovered from Danny's locker and draped them over one arm. "I'm going to take him down to the hospital and have him checked out. I'll take the kits and process him completely there. Call Flack and have him meet us there. Anyone mind a little more overtime?"

Aiden smiled. "Thrive on it," she replied. "I'll take his clothes to trace and start on them."

Stella nodded. "I'll take the Randall case and call Flack for you," she said.

Mac nodded. "Danny had been missing officially for twenty-one hours," Mac told them. "Unofficially, he's been missing for almost seventy hours. I want a time line here. I want to know where he's been." He started back into the shower area confident that his team would get him the answers he requested.

Detective Don Flack was visibly upset when Mac had to introduce him to Danny, who now rested on a hospital gurney having just undergone a battery of tests. Don was exhausted; he'd been searching for Danny for three days when the man missed a basketball game. And he'd been the one who had found Danny's badge in the UN delegate's car.

Mac had finished processing Danny and packed the camera away. Danny had resisted going to the hospital but Mac talked him into going with the promise that he'd stay with him there. Now, he and Flack were waiting for the medical reports to come back. He doubted that they'd keep Danny overnight, unless it was for observation, and Mac suspected if that was the case, they'd have to do considerably more fast-talking to get him to stay.

It wasn't long before the on-call doctor walked into the room. Danny was a bit jumpy whenever someone new walked in, but he settled down quickly. The doctor carried Danny's chart in his hand. Both Don and Mac looked up expectantly.

"Well, physically, except for the bruising, he's fine," the doctor said, directing his comments more to Mac than Danny. "He has some strained muscles and complaints of pain, but it's all consistent with his injuries. He does have some mild rectal tearing that would suggest rape or rough sexual activity but there's no indication of semen. You said he showered?"

Mac nodded. "At the station, yes," Mac replied. "We think that was his first since whatever happened to him took place but I don't think he compromised anything. I'll have our people check for condom use, but since this could have happened as long ago as seventy-two hours…" he trailed off with a negative headshake.

The doctor nodded. "He's had hepatitis b shots already for the department and he gets regular physicals. We'll start him on preventative medication, just to be safe. As for his head injury…" he flipped back a few pages on the clipboard chart. "… the CT scan showed just very mild swelling. Whether he lost consciousness or not is indeterminate. At this point, we can only speculate, but due to his extensive disorientation, I'm definitely classifying this as a concussion."

"Extensive disorientation!" Don piped up. "Doc, he don't remember _anything_!"

All eyes turned toward Flack, who was still clearly upset at the findings. Having a friend who was the victim put things in a different perspective.

"The brain responds to trauma in different ways, detective," the doctor replied. "Shutting down is a defense mechanism that keeps a victim from recalling situations that are too shocking for the system. It's why most auto accident victims don't remember the details of the crash." He turned his attention back to his patient. Danny had been watching him quietly since he arrived. "Danny, I don't think that the blow to your head is causing your amnesia. It may be a catalyst, a factor involved, but I think that over time your memory will return."

"How much time?" Danny finally asked, his voice quiet.

The doctor shook his head. "That's hard to say. A lot of it depends on you. You need to try to stay calm and relaxed… clean, dry, warm, comfortable, and in familiar surroundings. I'd suggest not being alone…"

"He lives alone," Don pointed out. "And if he moves in with someone else, he's not in familiar surroundings."

Mac's brain clicked into a good idea. It was a bit unorthodox, but he didn't particularly care then. "He could stay at the station," Mac offered. "Bunks in the bunkroom; he's spent enough time in them. There's always someone around, and it's familiar territory."

"That mean I don't gotta stay here?" Danny asked.

Mac nodded. "That means you don't have to stay here. But we're still working at the station so you'll need to behave yourself and stay out of trouble." He smirked a bit. Telling Danny Messer to stay out of trouble was a little like trying to nail jelly to a tree.

Danny nodded. "I will," he promised.

Two hours later, Mac was back in his office and on the phone. He saw Stella waiting in the doorway and motioned her in. "…yes sir, the doctor at the hospital and I both agree that this is the best thing… right… no, we will… yes sir… Lower Manhattan, twelfth… that's correct… yes sir, we will… you're welcome. Good night." He set the phone back on the cradle and glanced at Stella.

She smiled. "Let me guess… his father?" She turned as Aiden knocked on the door behind her, folder in hand, then stepped aside to let her in also.

Mac nodded. "I've been on the phone for the past forty-five minutes. I've talked with the New York Department of Missing Persons, I've talked with the FBI, I've talked to the Commissioner and IAB and I've spoken with his father. Do me a favor, both of you and never go missing." He smiled and gave a slight shake of his head, then glanced at Stella. "How is he?"

"Asleep," she replied. "He was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow."

Mac nodded and looked at Aiden. "What've you found?" he gestured to the folder in her hand.

Aiden passed it over for his perusal but summed it up for both her boss and Stella. "Report on his clothes came back. He definitely was in the river at some point. Bacteria on his jeans confirm it. The mud on his pants and socks are consistent with the stuff we find in the East River, but the concentrations are fairly mild."

Mac glanced the report over. "That would indicate that he wasn't very far up river and potentially place him near the Verrazano where his badge was located. I'll see about getting some uniforms along the shores near the bridge in the morning and see if they can't find some sign of where he came out of the water. His shoes were missing, right?"

Aiden nodded. "Yeah, so if we find those, odds are we find at least close to where he went in… or came out."

Mac nodded again. "Flack's at his apartment now picking up some personal belongings, change of clothes, searching for his spare glasses and his service pistol."

"Mac…" Stella began slowly, her mind reeling at the mere thought in her head. "You don't suppose he could have fallen from…" She met the man's gaze. "Could he have survived that?"

"Fallen from the bridge?" Mac's focus turned inward as he ran through the possibilities. "And survived? Highly doubtful. You're talking about a two hundred twenty-six foot drop. That's like nineteen stories."

Stella nodded. "Are you staying here tonight?" she asked, even though she already knew the answer. Mac stayed last many nights, working on cases. And now, this case was personal.

Sure enough, Mac nodded. "Yeah. I'll catch a few hours in the bunkroom." He set the folder that Aiden had handed him down on his desk. "Both of you head out. Go home and sleep; I'll see you in the morning."

Mac looked up when Aiden came into the lab with Danny on her heels. A quick glance at the clock informed him that it was almost three pm. Except for one trip to the bathroom, Danny had slept through the night and the next morning. Now he was awake, had on a spare pair of glasses that Don had recovered from his apartment and was wearing jeans and a gray sleeveless t-shirt.

Aiden pointed to a stool at the far end of the table. "You can sit there, Danny. Just don't touch anything, okay?" She looked at Mac. "I found him in the break room," she told her boss. "He was bored and I figured maybe he could come sit here for awhile and maybe he'd remember something."

Mac nodded. "That's fine, Aiden." He handed her a folder. "Run this through AFIS please."

Aiden nodded and took the folder, then started out when she heard Danny say, "Who's Afis?" She stopped and exchanged a glance at Mac.

Mac shook his head and shooed her out. As Aiden was walking out, Stella was walking in.

"Tox report is negative," Stella told Mac. She smiled at Danny. "Morning, sleepy."

"Mornin' Ma'am," Danny said quietly. He took a seat on the stool and watched them. "Who's Afis?" he repeated.

Stella's grin spread. "Automated Fingerprint Identification System," she told him. "A-F-I-S. It checks the fingerprints that we find with registered ones from all over the country." She leaned across the table and studied him as he processed that information. "Now, what's CODIS check for?"

Danny considered, then shrugged. "I don't know," he admitted.

Mac and Stella exchanged glances. Stella's grin faded a bit. "CODIS checks for DNA. You know what DNA is?"

Danny shook his head no and Stella sighed. From her expression, Danny thought it was something that he was supposed to know. It just wasn't coming to him. He felt like it was right there… right on the edge of his thoughts, yet nothing. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"Don't worry about it, Danny," Mac told him. The doctor had told them that it might take awhile for his memories to come back and that he shouldn't stress about it. He changed the subject. "Did you get something to eat?"

"Yes sir. I found the break room."

"Good," Mac said. He picked up a book and started to dust it for prints. He heard the door to the lab open again and he glanced up briefly, half expecting it to be Aiden back with his AFIS findings. It was Flack.

"Hey, Danny," Flack grinned. "Remember me?" He was somewhat relieved that Danny looked more like himself than he had last night.

Danny studied him. "You were at the hospital last night," he struggled to click the name to the face. "Don… Flack."

Don nodded. "Nice. Good job."

"What've you got, Flack?" Mac asked.

"Good news and bad news. Which do you want first?"

"Give me the bad news," Mac replied. Get that out of the way first.

Don nodded. "Bad news. A dozen uniforms combed the banks of the East River from the Verrazano out two hundred yards in each direction from both sides of the bridge. Nada. No shoes, no footprints, nothing."

Mac nodded. He had found a partial print and worked to get it lifted. "What's the good news?"

"I spoke with some people who were there the morning of the accident. Seems one Balraj Patel remembered seeing Danny on the bridge that morning. He remembers because Danny was in his cab. When they came up behind the accident, Danny identified himself as a police officer, got out of the cab to go assist and told the driver he'd be back and that he could leave the meter run if he wanted. Only Danny never came back." He glanced at Danny. "I paid the guy; you owe me fourteen bucks."

"What about that diplomat's daughter?" Stella piped up. "Have we talked with her?"

Don nodded. "Yeah, I did. She remembers Danny; even picked his picture out of a group of six shown to her. She remembers him talking with her, she remembers him pulling her out of the car and she remembers him going back to the car to get something she'd left behind. One of the other vehicles involved caught fire and her attention diverted. She doesn't remember seeing him leave and didn't seem him anytime after. His badge was found on the floor in the back seat of the vehicle."

"Deoxyribonucleic acid," Danny piped up. All three heads turned in his direction. Mac was the only one who spoke.

"What?"

Danny looked between the three as if he were a child being questioned about having just said a word of profanity. "Uh, nothing," he finally stammered.

"No, Danny," Mac said. "Say it again."

Danny took a deep breath. "Deoxyribonucleic acid. DNA." He waited to be yelled at. It didn't happen.

Stella's grin returned, bigger than ever. "That's fantastic, Danny. What's it mean?"

"Called the building blocks of life, it's found in every cell of the body and unique to every individual. Most common sources of DNA are blood, semen and saliva, but it can be extracted from any cell on the body, including skin and hair." He grinned, suddenly pleased with himself. "I remembered."

Mac nodded, but it was way too soon for him to be excited. Danny was still a long way off from being the CSI that he was.

It came back slowly. Over the next two days, Danny remembered his password for the work computer, how to lift prints, run evidence on both CODIS and AFIS, how to check bullets for stria, how to check for blood and how to use the ALS. He also remembered the team's phone numbers, his home address and his father's address. His normal personality had started to return.

The CSI's, along with Dr. Sheldon Hawkes sat in the break room. It was the first lull they'd had in the past ten days. And Danny's was the only unsolved case they still had from everything that had recently come in.

Mac had brought in a large tablet and an easel. On the left, he had written long-ways on the paper the last day Danny had worked. On the far right, he wrote the day Danny appeared back in the lab. There was a line between the two.

"Everything's connected," he said. "We know that Danny left the lab here, at nineteen hundred hours on September eighth. He showed up back here five days later, at twenty-one fifty hours. We have a lot of evidence. Let's fill in the middle."

Don Flack had also joined the CSI's and was leaning against the wall with a large cup of coffee in hand. "The wreck on the Verrazano was September eleventh at six fifteen in the morning," he said. "It was on the lower deck and was in the eastbound lanes. There were twenty-one cars involved."

Mac wrote it all down on a line that he drew partway in from the left. "Okay, what else?"

"We have proof that Danny was there," Don continued. "He was in a cab headed eastbound, about a dozen or so cars behind the end of the wreck. We have proof that he got out of the cab and went to assist. He helped the daughter of a diplomat out of the embassy vehicle and to the side of the roadway. His badge was left behind inside that vehicle."

"Exactly where was the wreck in reference to the spans?" Mac asked. Don flipped open a note pad which contained all the information he'd gathered about Danny's case since he'd started his search for the man. "There's four thousand, two hundred sixty feet between the two spans," Don told them. "The start of the wreck was just about a thousand feet in past the eastbound upright."

Mac wrote that down next to the first part. "Okay, Danny had two days off: the ninth and tenth. It stands to reason that he was headed into work, toward Manhattan at six thirty in the morning on the eleventh via cab. He never arrived." He moved over toward the right from the information Flack had given him. "He doesn't show to work on the eleventh. He doesn't answer his house or cell phone. His badge is turned into the department Monday evening late after it's found on the floor in the back seat of the diplomat vehicle. They admit to seeing him that morning but claim he disappeared before they could thank him... which, by the way, they would still like to do. Anyone have anything else on the eleventh?"

Heads shook no, even Danny's. Don piped up, "I tried calling him Monday night at home and on his cell. No answer."

"So did I," Mac told him. He wrote below the 11th line: _Evening - 2 calls each to cell and home phones. No answer. Badge turned in late._ He then glanced at the others. "He showed up here September 13th at nine fifty pm. Danny, do you remember how you got here?"

"I walked," Danny replied. "From what I can remember, I was on foot. I don't remember even being in a cab."

"Who told you to come here, in particular?" Stella asked him.

Danny shrugged. "Couple of women," he admitted. "I don't know who they were. I told them I needed help, that I didn't know where I was and they pointed me here."

"They may have thought he'd been mugged the way he looked," Aiden offered.

Mac nodded, having remembered seeing Danny when he first came in. He then drew another line and wrote September 12th on it. "Okay, Danny doesn't show up on the twelfth in the morning for work. I call his place and get no answer. I then talk to Don, who goes over and finds..."

"Nothing," Don picked up his train of thought. "Messages on the answering machine date back as far as Saturday afternoon," he added. "None of his neighbors remember seeing him, but Danny once told me that his neighbors don't recognize him anyway so I wouldn't put a huge amount of stock on that. Still, it didn't appear that he'd been home in days. At which point I called you back..." he pointed to Mac, who picked up the line again.

"And I reported him to the department as missing. Officially, September 12th at ten oh eight in the morning. Okay, what do we have from the evidence?"

Stella spoke first. "We got permission to examine the car that was in the accident. I swabbed it over and found a small speck of blood on part of the back door, where Jorgenia was riding. DNA matches Danny; most likely that lump on his head bled a little bit. By the time he got here, it had sealed, which makes sense in a three day timeframe. His prints were found in several places along the back door of the vehicle in a couple different angles, suggesting he did go in the vehicle more than once."

Mac nodded and started making notes along the bottom of the pad.

Sheldon piped up next. "According to what I got from reading the medical reports taken at the hospital, it looks like Danny hit _something_ or something hit Danny. The damage is inconsistent with that of a moving vehicle. He had large hematomas under both arms, along his ribcage on both sides, and inside of both legs and on the soles of his feet. My guess would be that he fell and caught himself here..." he pressed both arms against the top of the table, imitating the areas bruised on his arms. "As for his legs, if he fell and hit something hard, he'd have pushed his legs out through his hips and would have had breaks for sure. Whatever he hit was hard enough to cause bruising but not so hard as to cause bone breakage."

Aiden took a deep breath. "I went over what was left of his clothes with a fine tooth comb. Palynological exam showed that he was in the water at some point, completely immersed. The mud on his socks and jeans had bacteria consistent with the area around the narrows bridge and the lower bay. He also had debris on his socks from other sources." She glanced at Danny. "Do you remember being anywhere else with trees and dirt?"

Danny considered. "I remember a park," he admitted slowly. "Spent one night there."

"What do you remember about it?" Mac prompted.

Danny shrugged. "I remember being cold. Very cold. That's about it."

Stella pulled up a map of the city and glanced it over. "We know he was here..." she pointed to Staten Island, "...on the 11th. If he was working his way toward Manhattan, and he had to be since he got here in two days time..." she trailed her finger along the map. "Prospect Park?" She looked at the others. "Almost had to be."

"And he still had to get across the East River somehow into Manhattan," Aiden pointed to another large body of water that would have separated Danny from the department. "Could he have walked across the Gowanus Expressway?"

"I'd put my bets on the Brooklyn or the Manhattan bridge," Don offered. "If he picked up Flatbush Avenue, he would have followed it right there."

Mac looked over at Danny. "You've been seeing the department psychologist since your return. What has he said about your memories?"

Danny shrugged and shook his head. "We've been doing a lot of work; I've even been under hypnosis. My training an' everything is coming back," he told Mac. "But none of the missing time is. For what it's worth, I should be able to come back to work maybe next week," he added. But from what he was tellin' me, I may never get this..." he tapped the tablet with his finger, "...time back. It's just gone."

The room fell silent except for Aiden's whispered, "wow" as each of them pondered what it would feel like to just so completely lose five days of your life. The department was calling it five days, as Danny still had no recollection of what he had done that past weekend and why he happened to be on Staten Island in the first place. His last clear memory was leaving the station.

Mac was the first one who spoke up again after several minutes. "Well... Danny... welcome back." He closed the folder that had the evidence findings and tore off the notepad page. He folded it with the folder and put it in a box that was seated on the floor near his feet. "Case closed for now."

Aiden got up and gave Danny a warm hug before she left the room. "Welcome back, Danny," she said and kissed his cheek, then slipped out to some unknown task that awaited her.

Flack walked over next and gave Danny a bear hug, not caring who was in the room. Danny was one of his best friends and the time he'd been missing was a panic for Don. "You're goin' home tonight, right?" he asked. Danny nodded. "How about I come over and hang with you? I'll bring the food and the beer; you supply the entertainment."

Danny flashed him a lop-sided grin. "Strippers work?"

Don laughed. "Yeah, that works for me. I'll catch you later. Behave for them." He tossed his coffee cup in the trash and headed back to work.

"Everyone keeps tellin' me to behave," Danny muttered at the closed door. "Am I a troublemaker or somethin'?"

Mac and Stella looked at each other, then at him. At the same time, Mac told him "no" and Stella told him "definitely".

Danny waved his hand at both of them dismissively and headed out of the break room. "I got a meetin' with the shrink again," he shot over his shoulder. "Later."

Mac picked up the box and looked at Hawkes and Stella. "Okay," he sighed. "It's all on the table. What do you two really think?"

Hawkes flicked dark eyes in Stella's direction. "Ladies first," he gestured grandly.

Stella nodded. "I've said it once before. I think he fell off the bridge."

"Nineteen stories?" Mac asked. "Seems unlikely. Fall like that would kill him."

"Not necessarily," Sheldon said slowly. "If he did fall, and I'm not saying he did or didn't, but if he did, if he thought fast, remained in a straight line when he entered the water, then opened up once he was in the water to slow his descent..." he shrugged. "Whole lotta if's."

Mac looked at him. "You're suggesting it's possible?" He then stopped to consider it on a broader perspective.

"It does seem to be the most logical possibility," Sheldon admitted. "Not to mention..." he paused. "I know if **_I_** fell from the Verrazano bridge, I wouldn't want to remember that." He flashed them both a quick smile before he snagged a danish and headed out to the morgue.

Stella looked at Mac. "Do you think we'll _ever _know for sure?"

Detective First Class Mac Taylor didn't have an answer for her.

FIN


End file.
